Monday, June 18, 2007
Gross Gardening Guide
So I had a little revelation when I was gardening yesterday that will help illustrate a previous entry and add to the literature online immensely. Ok, now that we've got the snooty lead-in, we can get to the gross story.
We're in my parents' garden, and something smells terrible in front of the porch. We all say, "Smells like death!" Then I say, "Actually, I bet you just have a stinkhorn. I'll look around." Search...search...search... I'm looking for a little red streak hiding in the mulch. A few minutes later, I'm on the porch looking from the other side and, lo and behold, there are some little paws attached to a slighty snacked-upon squirrel (no thank you, neighbor cats!).
The fact is, it really did smell exactly like an octopus stinkhorn. And so, I have a smellerific identification guide, just for you, so that now when you step out the front door in the morning, looking forward to a good day, and get knocked flat by your own garden, you'll know what plant to yank up viciously and thank for ruining your day.
STINKHORN IDENTIFICATION GUIDE BY SMELL
Ravenel's Stinkhorn = Organic ammonia. In other words, it doesn't smell exactly like ammonia in a bottle, but if you can think of organic things that are ammonia-like (chemical bases), it's like that.
Octopus Stinkhorn, aka "Dead Man's Fingers" = Dead squirrel.
See how simple? Of course, the latter could also be a rotting philodendron seed pod, which is also incredibly gross, or...it might just be a dead squirrel. Either way, don't leave it in your garden. Or mine. This means you, cats!
/end public service announcement
We're in my parents' garden, and something smells terrible in front of the porch. We all say, "Smells like death!" Then I say, "Actually, I bet you just have a stinkhorn. I'll look around." Search...search...search... I'm looking for a little red streak hiding in the mulch. A few minutes later, I'm on the porch looking from the other side and, lo and behold, there are some little paws attached to a slighty snacked-upon squirrel (no thank you, neighbor cats!).
The fact is, it really did smell exactly like an octopus stinkhorn. And so, I have a smellerific identification guide, just for you, so that now when you step out the front door in the morning, looking forward to a good day, and get knocked flat by your own garden, you'll know what plant to yank up viciously and thank for ruining your day.
STINKHORN IDENTIFICATION GUIDE BY SMELL
Ravenel's Stinkhorn = Organic ammonia. In other words, it doesn't smell exactly like ammonia in a bottle, but if you can think of organic things that are ammonia-like (chemical bases), it's like that.
Octopus Stinkhorn, aka "Dead Man's Fingers" = Dead squirrel.
See how simple? Of course, the latter could also be a rotting philodendron seed pod, which is also incredibly gross, or...it might just be a dead squirrel. Either way, don't leave it in your garden. Or mine. This means you, cats!
/end public service announcement
Labels: garden
Thursday, June 14, 2007
Mayo in Bloom
The sago palms around the office are "blooming" and the new growth always has such interesting textures. Velvety, in the middle of prickly green and thorns. Here are some of the best shots...
Male Sago Palm
Female Sago Palm
Sago Palm Leaf
Curls
Male Sago Palm
Female Sago Palm
Sago Palm Leaf
Curls
Friday, March 02, 2007
Even Rainier Morning
Thursday, March 01, 2007
Rainy Spring Morning
Tuesday, December 19, 2006
The Mushroom Saga Continues
Remember when I told you that leaving my obscene mushrooms til the end of the day is not a good idea?
More fungii porn
See what I have to put up with? Are you listening, Mother Nature?! There were at least 10 "eggs" waiting for me under the mulch too. I've always loved gardening, you know, but no.
Incidentally, my experience with Ravenel's has at least provided an answer to one of my college years' quandaries: What in the heck is on the back of Tori Amos' Little Earthquakes album? Personally, I just assumed it was Tori being her usual slighly questionable self..
And, you know, it is. But it is also not just a figment of her angry but highly poetic mind. It is my mushroom, only slightly prettier and nonsmelly. Notice the taller one's cap has been picked dry, which is not unlike the men featured in her songs. If you would like to see this for yourself, please see the CD stack of any American woman between the ages of 25 and 40, directly between Jagged Little Pill and the Paula Cole.
*waits for you to return*
See what I mean? This has boggled me for years. Now I know.
It also reminds me of one of my favorite scenes from French Kiss:
"Look, Luc, this reminded me of you."
"Awwwwwwwwwwww"
Incidentally, I have never met a man outside of my family who could stay awake through that whole movie, but, personally, I think it's hilarious.
Finally, on a more festive note, a holiday picture, featuring me and a faux fireplace:
Sorry my hair is so blah, but it was quite foggy out. Just be glad it isn't an afro. Coming soon... HOLIDAY COOKIE RECIPES.
More fungii porn
See what I have to put up with? Are you listening, Mother Nature?! There were at least 10 "eggs" waiting for me under the mulch too. I've always loved gardening, you know, but no.
Incidentally, my experience with Ravenel's has at least provided an answer to one of my college years' quandaries: What in the heck is on the back of Tori Amos' Little Earthquakes album? Personally, I just assumed it was Tori being her usual slighly questionable self..
And, you know, it is. But it is also not just a figment of her angry but highly poetic mind. It is my mushroom, only slightly prettier and nonsmelly. Notice the taller one's cap has been picked dry, which is not unlike the men featured in her songs. If you would like to see this for yourself, please see the CD stack of any American woman between the ages of 25 and 40, directly between Jagged Little Pill and the Paula Cole.
*waits for you to return*
See what I mean? This has boggled me for years. Now I know.
It also reminds me of one of my favorite scenes from French Kiss:
"Look, Luc, this reminded me of you."
"Awwwwwwwwwwww"
Incidentally, I have never met a man outside of my family who could stay awake through that whole movie, but, personally, I think it's hilarious.
Finally, on a more festive note, a holiday picture, featuring me and a faux fireplace:
Sorry my hair is so blah, but it was quite foggy out. Just be glad it isn't an afro. Coming soon... HOLIDAY COOKIE RECIPES.
Labels: garden
Thursday, December 07, 2006
3 Pictures
I forgot to add this picture of the Chocolate Guinness Cake to the recipe entry...
mmmm! One final note on the cake, when the chocolate cover hardens, you need a pretty sharp knife to cut a piece all the way through and not crack the shell. Whatever you do, don't slide the knife under the slice towards your bare finger. Chocolate is slightly difficult to clean out of a gaping wound. Not that I would know from personal experience.
Next picture... For some inexplicable reason, the tiny courtyard in front of my apartment has been plagued with mushrooms. Everytime there is any bit of moisture--rain, fog, whatever--exactly 2 days later, I have at least one new stinkhorn. If you've never had one, it smells a little like ammonia and a little like rotting flesh. But I can't just have any stinkhorn growing out there, like the usual Octopus Stinkhorn that looks like silly string gone bad, it has to be one I'd never heard of... Ravenel's Stinkhorn. Look at this lovely thing:
Obscene, no? You should read the legend on how it came to be--I can't find where I first read it; however, the Latin name for this plant is phallus ravenelii. Pretty much sums it up. Of course, if you don't get these buggers right away, the spongey stalk deflates, the gooey top turns black and tarry, and it falls over and pollinates everything in sight. Given that, I get to start my day off by yanking up each new visitor with the newspaper wrapper, hoping I don't sink my fingers down into a hidden, unhatched "egg" (see below).
So fresh and oozing with yuckiness! One day recently I pulled up over 40. Nobody else I've seen at the complex has these. I love nature.
Last picture--a more cute, non-yucky visitor!
Awh! We noticed this little guy hanging around by the hotel parking lot next to Mayo. Since he came right over to me to say hello, I was convinced he'd either run away or had been dropped off. With winter coming, myriad birds of prey on the property, and a busy street next to his covey, I thought I'd try and "rescue" him. However, after a couple hours of my assistant Robin and I running around with a beach towel and minnow net after him--through the courtyard, under the cars (NO, BUN, NOT UNDER THE BEATLE), etc.--followed by a day of near paralysis (clearly, I had not done enough plies in my childhood to last me a lifetime, as I previously thought), he let us know he was not having any of that rescuing business.
We did have several lovely conversations, though, during which I sat on the grass and he bathed 2 feet away (SO cute), and I suggested he rethink his plans not to move in with me and Lex and what lovely buds they would be, seeing as how they were both the color of a caramel macchiato. He, on the other hand, thought his thatch of sawgrass was just fine and was enjoying the 99 cent Wendy's salads the ladies were leaving him. Robin thought we should name him Ajoe (for the journal), but by the time we had returned from Thanksgiving break, he'd moved on. I hope. *sigh*
mmmm! One final note on the cake, when the chocolate cover hardens, you need a pretty sharp knife to cut a piece all the way through and not crack the shell. Whatever you do, don't slide the knife under the slice towards your bare finger. Chocolate is slightly difficult to clean out of a gaping wound. Not that I would know from personal experience.
Next picture... For some inexplicable reason, the tiny courtyard in front of my apartment has been plagued with mushrooms. Everytime there is any bit of moisture--rain, fog, whatever--exactly 2 days later, I have at least one new stinkhorn. If you've never had one, it smells a little like ammonia and a little like rotting flesh. But I can't just have any stinkhorn growing out there, like the usual Octopus Stinkhorn that looks like silly string gone bad, it has to be one I'd never heard of... Ravenel's Stinkhorn. Look at this lovely thing:
Obscene, no? You should read the legend on how it came to be--I can't find where I first read it; however, the Latin name for this plant is phallus ravenelii. Pretty much sums it up. Of course, if you don't get these buggers right away, the spongey stalk deflates, the gooey top turns black and tarry, and it falls over and pollinates everything in sight. Given that, I get to start my day off by yanking up each new visitor with the newspaper wrapper, hoping I don't sink my fingers down into a hidden, unhatched "egg" (see below).
So fresh and oozing with yuckiness! One day recently I pulled up over 40. Nobody else I've seen at the complex has these. I love nature.
Last picture--a more cute, non-yucky visitor!
Awh! We noticed this little guy hanging around by the hotel parking lot next to Mayo. Since he came right over to me to say hello, I was convinced he'd either run away or had been dropped off. With winter coming, myriad birds of prey on the property, and a busy street next to his covey, I thought I'd try and "rescue" him. However, after a couple hours of my assistant Robin and I running around with a beach towel and minnow net after him--through the courtyard, under the cars (NO, BUN, NOT UNDER THE BEATLE), etc.--followed by a day of near paralysis (clearly, I had not done enough plies in my childhood to last me a lifetime, as I previously thought), he let us know he was not having any of that rescuing business.
We did have several lovely conversations, though, during which I sat on the grass and he bathed 2 feet away (SO cute), and I suggested he rethink his plans not to move in with me and Lex and what lovely buds they would be, seeing as how they were both the color of a caramel macchiato. He, on the other hand, thought his thatch of sawgrass was just fine and was enjoying the 99 cent Wendy's salads the ladies were leaving him. Robin thought we should name him Ajoe (for the journal), but by the time we had returned from Thanksgiving break, he'd moved on. I hope. *sigh*
Labels: chocolate, garden, recipes
